


Yule Ball Bangin'

by favabean05



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Potterlock, Teenlock, exchangelock, technically underage since they're 6th and 5th years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favabean05/pseuds/favabean05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock questions John's interest in their relationship in the lead up to the Yule Ball, John knows he has to reassure him or risk losing Sherlock forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yule Ball Bangin'

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for bumblebeesandsussex in the ExchangeLock gift exchange :) I hope you like it! (also I'm suuuper sorry this is late)

“John…”

“Mm, Sherlock,” John groaned softly, tugging Sherlock’s blue tie to kiss him slowly. He was pressed against the cupboard door of an empty classroom, white shirt pulled from his trousers, pressing against his boyfriends hips as lips and teeth trailed down his throat. “Oh _hell…_ ”

Sherlock sighed and nipped the hollow of his throat. “You had three people ask you to that bloody Yule Ball today…”

“Don’t deduce me while seducing me,” John gasped, his head falling back against the cabinet. 

“Two girls and...oh, I will murder that McGregor boy,” Sherlock growled against his skin.

John whimpered and pulled Sherlock up to kiss him slowly. “I told them no.”

“Obviously. You already have a date.”

John huffed a breathless laugh. “Yeah? Who is that?”

Sherlock pushed back a bit to look John in the eye. “You’re joking.”

“ _You’re_ joking,” John blinked. “You...wait, you want to go?”

Something darkened briefly in Sherlock’s eyes and he dropped his hands. “Again. Obvious. Don’t you…?”

John tugged on his bottom lip, feeling a flip in his belly. He and Sherlock had been best friends since Sherlock’s first year when he was placed in John’s second-year Transfiguration class - the first time a first-year was placed in higher level classes. Friendship shifted to romance just before summer break last year - John’s sixth year, and Sherlock’s fifth. So far, they’d been inconspicuous. No affection in classes, stealing moments like these in empty classrooms. Neither wanted anyone else to know, wanting to keep themselves in the happy, new-relationship bubble for as long as possible. 

“I…” John faltered, biting his lip. “I didn’t p-plan to.”

Sherlock blinked. “Why?”

“Because I thought...I mean, we haven’t told anyone…”

“And what better time to do that than at the Ball?” Sherlock crossed his arms. “Aren’t you tired of this? Snogging in empty classrooms because you don’t want your friends to see you’re with me.”

John’s jaw dropped. “That’s not why at all! You know me better than that. My friends are your friends too.”

“Are they?” Sherlock snapped and sighed.

“Sherlock,” John said softly, reaching for his hand. “If you want to go to the Ball, we’ll go.”

“No,” Sherlock said, pulling his hand away and tucking his shirt back in. “If you want to go. We will go. If _you_ want to be seen with me.”

John’s chest tightened. “Sherlock...love, it’s not that I don’t…”

“Fine,” Sherlock said curtly, straightening his tie. “Consider the matter dropped.” He looked up at John, coldness in his eyes. “Clean yourself up. You have Defense Against the Dark Arts in twenty minutes.”

And with that, Sherlock left the room and John felt ill.

\--

The next three days were met with cold ambivalence. John would walk over to Sherlock and he would immediately turn away. Any glances during classes John threw his way were not reciprocated. John’s stomach was constantly uneasy, his blood pounded in his ears, and he was overwhelmed with the deep understanding that he had fucked up. Badly.

The evening of the third night, John trekked the familiar path past his common room at the kitchens toward the Ravenclaw common room on the fifth floor. The door knocker had gotten used to the older Hufflepuff boy answering his riddles, knowing of the friendship shared between Sherlock and him. John needed to talk to Sherlock. Needed to reassure him. He needed Sherlock to just _look_ at him. 

“You are not allowed here,” the knocker spoke, freezing John in his place ten yards from the entrance. 

“What?” John choked, his mouth dry. 

“I have been instructed to keep you from entering the common room.”

“By Sherlock?”

A pause. “Yes.”

John’s heart fell to his feet and he stared at the knocker, dumb with shock. He opened his mouth to speak but faltered, closing his mouth again. He turned on his heel and did the only thing he could think to do. He headed for the Owlery.

\--

At breakfast the next morning, John could barely eat. He pushed his eggs around his plate, trying not to obviously stare at Sherlock as he sat alone at the Ravenclaw table. Even when Mike and Greg sat down on either side of him, chatting happily, John’s stomach flipped at the first sound of owl wings heard above him. As owl after owl swooped into the Great Hall, John suddenly wondered if he was about to fuck up even worse. Was this a bad idea? Should he have done something less...demonstrative? His eyes caught sight of his tawny barn owl with a glint of red and closed his eyes. There was no going back now.

Sherlock stared at his bowl of porridge, spoon untouched despite his rumbling stomach. He hadn’t slept in days, barely been able to focus on his class work. Is this what it felt like? To allow emotions to cloud the mind the way Sherlock’s has his own?

He jumped as an owl landed in front of him, dropping a crimson envelope on the table beside the bowl. Sherlock stared at it and sighed. “Great…” He barely had time to noticed that handwriting on the front was not that of his mother’s before he opened the envelope and it exploded in his hands. John’s voice rang through the Great Hall as everyone went silent.

_**SHERLOCK HOLMES, I AM A GIANT TWAT. I AM SO HONORED I GET TO CALL YOUR BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT SELF MY BOYFRIEND. I AM SO SORRY I MADE YOU THINK OTHERWISE. IF YOU ARE WILLING TO FORGIVE ME, I HAVE TO ASK YOU SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT. WILL YOU GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME?** _

The echos of John’s voice bounced off the walls as the Howler burst into flames, the fiery ashes falling into Sherlock’s cold porridge. John sat frozen in his seat with his eyes locked onto Sherlock’s back, his face bright red and flushed hot. Mike and Greg were staring at him, a grin pulling on Greg’s mouth as he glanced between John and Sherlock across the room. 

Sherlock stared at the embers in his breakfast and felt a roaring in his ears. People were staring at him. He didn’t care if they did. Sherlock took a deep breath and slowly turned in his seat back to where John was sitting. Their eyes met, and John was _smiling_. He was smiling, this was genuine, he meant it. He meant it? Sherlock blinked and read John’s face and posture. Scared. Nervous. Contrite. Honest. _Honest_.

He stood from his seat and walked straight over to the Hufflepuff table. John scrambled to his feet and before the seventh year could open his mouth, Sherlock pulled him across the table and kissed him. The Great Hall erupted in cheers, Greg yelled something to Mike about owing him five galleons, but neither boy noticed. 

“I’m sorry,” John said as they parted. 

“Yes I will, you prat,” Sherlock grinned. 

\--

The ball was incredible. John and Sherlock were never more than five feet apart the whole evening, and when together, they were always touching. Holding hands, holding waists, kissing at the drinks bar, then slipping out of the party to continue out on the grounds. John smiled and tugged Sherlock close by the lapel of his dress robes, kissing him slowly. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” John whispered, resting his forehead against Sherlock’s. 

“Thank you for wanting me to.”

John sighed softly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t,” Sherlock cupped his chin and kissed him slowly, threading his fingers up into his sandy hair. “All is forgiven.”

John took Sherlock’s hand and smiled, leaning up to kiss him again. He whimpered softly when Sherlock deepened it, feeling his hands fist his dress robes and pull him closer against his chest. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck and sighed, nibbling Sherlock’s bottom lip - a move he had just discovered had an immense effect on his boyfriend. Sherlock moaned and broke the kiss, panting softly. 

“May we...may we spend the night together?” he asked hesitantly, meeting John’s eyes. 

John blinked and smiled, cupping Sherlock’s neck gently. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sherlock nodded and smiled. “I’m ready to have you tonight.”

John’s stomach flipped, and his cheeks warmed, but he grinned wide. He kissed Sherlock firmly. “Your room? My common room is too noisy.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

\--

“Give me ten minutes,” Sherlock said, lips brushing against John’s in a brief kiss. “Then come in.”

John sighed, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist and holding him close. “I don’t know if I can wait.”

“You can,” Sherlock smiled. He drew away from John and smiled, nervous energy radiating off of his body. “Ten minutes.”

John smiled and nodded, watching as Sherlock turned and walked to the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room. He heard statue give the riddle and Sherlock’s baritone reply, but John couldn’t register either as the gravity of the evening fell on him. Years. They’d danced around each other for years, and now finally - _finally_ \- they were...they were…

“Oh my god,” John muttered to himself, feeling his nerves shaking him. A happy grin split his face and he huffed a laugh. He brought a hand up to smooth his hair, wind blown from their time spent outside of the ball. He smoothed down the front of his black dress robes, then surreptitiously breathed into his palm to check his breath. He was beginning to wonder if he should trim his nails when a soft voice grabbed his attention. 

“Watson?” the Ravenclaw knocker called gently. “I believe it has been ten minutes.”

“Ah,” John blushed and smiled, walking toward the entrance. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs as he approached. “Right. Er, thank you.”

 _“With thieves I consort, With the vilest, in short, I'm quite at ease in depravity; Yet all divines use me, And savants can't lose me, For I am the center of gravity…_ ” The statue said.

“Er…” John faltered, still quivering with nerves. “I...bloody hell, I….” John was usually very good at getting the Ravenclaw entrance riddles. He’d been able to get into his boyfriend’s common room for years, why wasn’t he able to _tonight?_

The eagle doorknocker laughed softly then whispered. “What letter comes before the first in your last name?”

John blinked then blushed, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “...V.”

The entryway was revealed before him and John grinned. “Thanks,” he said.

“Have a good evening Mr. Watson,” the eagle said, closing the door behind him. 

John walked through the common room, stepping around the first through third years who were unable to attend the Yule Ball but took the evening to study. Seeing the older Hufflepuff was a common occurrence, even if they hadn’t had their noses in their books, his presence would be unmentioned. John quickly found the stairs and scaled them two by two to the boys sixth year dormitory. He slowly pushed open the thick, wooden door, feeling the nerves kick up in force. 

“Sherlock?” he whispered softly then smiled when he spotted his boyfriend, nervously closing and smoothing the drapes on his poster bed. 

Sherlock turned and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi,” John laughed softly, walking over toward him. “The statue took pity on me.”

“Hmm?” Sherlock said, reaching out to hold John’s waist with a smile. “What do you mean?”

“I was so nervous, I couldn’t answer the riddle. He fed me the answer.” John blushed and held Sherlock’s hips. “First time in years I couldn’t get it.”

Sherlock smiled and chuckled softly. “Well I imagine you had other things on your mind.”

John blushed deeper, reaching up to cup Sherlock’s cheek as he leaned down to kiss him slowly. Hands slid across his shoulder blades and John sighed softly, gently nipping Sherlock’s bottom lip. “I did, in fact,” he murmured softly. “I’ll lock the door.”

“No need,” Sherlock said, pulling away from John and smiled, drawing his wand from the sleeve of his dress robes. _“Protego Totalum”_ , he murmured, raising his wand. The air shimmered along the dormitory walls, and John beamed. 

“Clever, you,” John chuckled softly, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Just wait,” Sherlock smiled and sauntered back toward him. He pointed his wand at the dormitory door as he slid his arm around John’s waist. _“Muffliato.”_

John laughed and held his waist. “So no one will see us or hear us…”

“Precisely,” Sherlock smiled, turning to face John. “We’ve certainly waited long enough. Hate to be interrupted.”

John looked up into Sherlock’s eyes and felt a shiver run through him. Every touch, every kiss, every stolen moment in empty classrooms and the Room of Requirement, was another coal thrown on the slow burn in the pit of his gut. The heat rose through him as he lifted onto his toes, threading his fingers into Sherlock’s curls and pressing his lips to his with full intent. Sherlock melted against him and John pressed closer, licking Sherlock’s bottom lip as he heard the slide of drapery. The younger man whimpered and pulled them backward, and they barely parted as they climbed onto the mattress. 

Sherlock pulled the curtain to and held John’s face, smoothing his thumb across his cheek. “John…”

“Hmm?” the older boy smiled, pushing back a black errant curl from Sherlock’s forehead. 

“I…” Sherlock’s voice faltered and his eyes dropped. “John, I…”

John smiled warmly and tipped Sherlock’s chin up, leaning in to kiss him softly and sweetly. “I know,” he said gently as they parted. “I do too…”

Sherlock’s face split in a wide grin, slumping a little in relief and sinking in to another kiss. John huffed a relieved laugh himself and pushed into the kiss, slowly pressing Sherlock back along the bed. He settled his weight and sighed as Sherlock’s hands were already grabbing and pulling up his dress robes. 

“Slow down, love,” John whispered and smiled, kissing his forehead. “We’ve got all night…”

“Please,” Sherlock sighed, pulling his robes again. “We have all night, yes. For more. I’ve waited too long for you. Please John.”

John’s stomach flipped at the desperation in Sherlock’s voice and he nodded, kissing Sherlock slowly. “Okay...okay…”

The only sounds between them were the rustling of fabric, their soft sighs, and their slow, wet kisses that were quickly becoming heated. John smiled up at Sherlock, kissing his now bare chest. The younger man squirmed, arching his back to press against John’s mouth.

“Ah- _ah…_ ” Sherlock gasped as John’s lips closed around a nipple, his tongue rolling and flicking against the hardened nub. “John, _please…_ ”

“Oh I could get used to hearing you like this,” John grinned, kissing down his stomach. He glanced up at Sherlock and hooking his fingers under the waistband of his pants. “Are you ready?”

Sherlock panted and nodded, running his fingers through John’s hair. “Yes. Please…”

John nodded and slowly pulled down Sherlock’s pants with a long sigh. “Oh, Sherlock. Hello, beautiful…” He took Sherlock’s erection in hand and stroked slowly. Sherlock whimpered softly and sighed, his eyes sliding closed. “Sherlock…”

He dipped down to slowly lick over the tip of Sherlock’s cock, a moan escaping his lips before taking the tip in his mouth. He sighed through his nose and sucked gently, pressing his tongue along the hot flesh as he slowly bobbed his head. Sherlock gasped and tangled a hand in John’s sandy hair, his other forearm thrown over his eyes. 

“J-John…” he whimpered and gasped as he sank farther into the beautiful wet warmth of his boyfriend’s mouth. “Oh Merlin…”

John chuckled around him and worked his jaw, bobbing his head faster. He slid his hand down to gently cup his testicles, moaning as Sherlock cried out and tugged his hair. John slid his hand up the bed and pried Sherlock’s from the bedclothes and held it tight.

Sherlock’s hips rocked up and he moaned. “John...oh Merlin, John, I’m...I’m…”

“Mmm,” John hollowed his cheeked and bobbed quickly, humming softly. 

“John! John, I--” Sherlock gasped and squeezed John’s hand, shaking as he came. “Oh...oh John…”

John moaned and swallowed down as much as he could, a small bead dribbling down his chin as he pulled off. “Sherlock,” he sighed, smiling and leaning up to kiss him slowly. “God, you’re beautiful…”

Sherlock cupped his neck and kissed him back, panting hard against his mouth. “John...John…” He pulled John’s hips down against his, rocking his own sensitive erection up against John’s hip. 

“Oh…” John whimpered and rocked his hips against Sherlock. “Oh my god, you’re beautiful.”

“Let go, love,” Sherlock sighed, kissing him and rocking up. “I've got you.”

John pressed his face to the juncture of Sherlock’s neck, panting against his skin as he thrust against his hip. “Sherlock, ah…” He gasped sharply and froze, moaning as he spilled between them. “Oh _god…_ ”

Sherlock groaned softly and held him to his chest, tipping his chin up and kissing John slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” John breathed, smiling wide. A laugh bubbled up from his chest and he kissed Sherlock again. “So...still afraid I’m ashamed of you?”

“Oh John,” Sherlock sighed and cupped his cheek, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I ever said that.”

John smiled and kissed the inside of his wrist. “No, it...it was the push I needed. I’ll tell you...seeing everyone watching us dance. I have never been more proud of anything in my life. Because I had you in my arms.”

Sherlock smiled and sighed happily, pulling John close and kissing him slowly. “Oh, I will have fun thanking you tonight.”

John beamed and kissed him back. “I look forward to it.”


End file.
